


True American

by schmulte



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: M/M, Mentions of alcohol, New Girl au, firstprince, no beta we die like men, the author has no regrets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:15:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28421559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/schmulte/pseuds/schmulte
Summary: In which Pez gets a new coat, Henry loses his tie, and everyone gets thoroughly hammered.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 2
Kudos: 52





	True American

**Author's Note:**

> this is the dumbest thing I have ever written. I blame the Gray Area discord for encouraging me.

It started with that fucking coat. The stupid khaki trench coat that had showed up at their door, obviously delivered to the wrong address, that Pez had kept and insisted on wearing. Even though it wasn't his. Even though it was a women's coat. A woman who did not live in their loft. 

He had strode into their eating area at two in the afternoon, dressed in a ridiculously gaudy satin button-down and that god awful coat. It would be one thing, if it was a coat coat, but it _wasn't_. It was fucking hideous and Pez refused to take it off. 

"I look rather handsome, I think," he had said oh-so confidently. He even did a little twirl, sticking his hands in the pockets and showing them off. "This coat has clean lines, and pockets that don't quit."

"And it has room for your hips--" June had interjected.

"And when I wear it I feel too hot to trot."

Henry had pinched the bridge of his nose. "Please don't say things like 'too hot to trot.'"

"My coat makes me say things like that!"

"Pez, it's not even your coat. It was delivered to the wrong address."

"Then why does it fit like a damn glove?"

And as if the chaos of that afternoon couldn't get any worse, Nora, in all her glory, burst from her room and declared "I'm going to have sex tonight! Who's with me?"

Which is how the five of them ended up in this situation. Nora, Pez, Alex, Henry, and June, gathered around their coffee table, screaming at each other over cans of beer. Needless to say, things were a bit...awkward.

You see, after the introduction of the coat and the decision to go out that night, Alex had to pull Henry aside for a bit of a sensitive conversation. Henry was not supposed to the club that night with them, because, well. He was Alex's cooler. 

"I'm your what?" he had asked, looking more offended than Alex thought he would be. 

"You're my cooler. You're the opposite of a wingman, Henry."

Well. That was true, but Henry did have his reasons. See, Henry had been the last one to move in to the loft after leaving England. He had heard about the opening through Pez, and ever since he stepped through their front door, he had been in love with Alex. Not that Alex knew, of course. And not that Henry would ever consider telling him. But, maybe been this cooler wasn't exactly unintentional.

Henry only sputtered. "But-I am not!"

"Please, Hen. Just tonight? I'll watch Return of the Jedi with you if you say yes." And Alex had put his hand on Henry's shoulder, and really, how could he say no? 

So Henry stayed, and found himself completely, mindlessly bored. He had reorganized his closet. He baked cookies. He watched Bake-Off. He had recreated the 2016 olympics in the living room. And just when he thought he couldn't take it any longer, something scratched at the door. He couldn't see anything in the hallway, and maybe he had stayed up way too late the night before watching horror movies, and maybe he had had a bit too much sugar that night, but it scared the shit out of him. So, he called Alex.

"Uh, what is going on?" he could hear Alex yelling over the blaring music. Henry would've felt bad, if he wasn't so frightened and lonely.

"There's something at the door and you need to come home." Okay, so Henry would later admit he was being possibly just the tiniest bit overdramatic. He started wearing this tie like a headband, and was trying to configure a trap out of forks and a roll of duct tape. 

"Cooler, Henry, you are being a cooler right now."

"Seriously, I think it might be gang related."

"It's not gang related--"

"Do you think it's my Union Jack curtains? Are there anti-British gangs here you haven't told me about?"

"Yes, Henry, there are anti-British gangs in Los Angelas that are out to get you, specifically, because of your curtains."

"Alex. Please, I need you."

Alex paused, and Henry held his breath. "Okay. Okay, I'll be right there."

Of course, all of them had taken the piss the minute they stepped into the apartment and saw the elaborate booby-traps Henry had set up while they were gone. He was wielding a baseball bat with forks duct-taped to it, and he looked so so stupid. Still, Alex thought it was a bit endearing, even if it did cut his night out short. 

Despite his fear, Henry had felt bad about having everyone come home so early. So, in the spirit of inter-loft camaraderie, he had proposed a rousing game of True American for some at-home fun. He did not mention that being ridiculously drunk would help his fear, too, or that he liked to see the blush that always rose in Alex's cheeks when he had one too many beers.

Somehow, they had turned it into a stripping version, and Alex ended up without a shirt and Henry's tie around his head, Nora and June without their pants, Pez in only the coat, and Henry had somehow _gained_ clothing. At some point Pez had broken the Geneva Convention, and because of that, one couple had to go behind the iron curtain and kiss with a clear and present threat of tongue. They had all picked numbers, and of course, because the universe either hates or loves Henry, he and Alex had gotten the same number. So, without ceremony, and with much protesting, they were locked in Henry's room, with all their friends chanting "kiss kiss kiss" outside the door.

"Come on, Alex!" June encouraged them. "Give Henry a tender, sensual kiss, and we'll let you out!"

Alex tried breaking down the door, but it wouldn't budge, and the photo of them stage kissing did not satisfy their friends. Henry's face was feeling quite hot, and he hoped Alex would contribute it to the alcohol and not the fact that Alex was shirtless and the two of them were trapped until they kissed. 

"Come on, Alex," he had said, voice breaking a little. "Let's just suck it up and French a little."

"Fine, but don't say 'French a little.' That's not a thing Americans say."

And if things weren't awkward before...oh boy. For starters, Alex was sitting on the ground, and Henry was standing. So, when Henry walked over to Alex, he started to crouch down as soon as Alex stood up. Which put them in a rather. Compromising position.

"What are you doing?" Alex had yelled at him, pulling on his hair.

"I thought we were going to sit on the ground!"

"Christ- come on, Henry, let's just do it." 

"Why are you licking your lips?"

"Will you stop it, I'm trying to concentrate!"

"Just kiss me already!"

"I can't!" Henry took a step back. He'd never heard Alex yell like that before. Sure, they were yelling before, but not seriously. Alex actually looked...upset. Hurt, even. His hair was sticking up in all different directions from pulling on it so hard, and he had this insane look in his eyes. He took a breath to calm himself, but he just looked more and more upset. "Not like this."

"What...what does that mean?"

Alex sighed. "This isn't...it's not the right...you know what, I'm done with this." And, with a fierce determination, Alex kicked down the door. Everyone went quiet, mouths open, beer cans in their hands, and Alex went straight to his room and slammed the door behind him. That was the end of True American that night.

As it turns out, the scratching at the door was their neighbor, Amy's, dog. The dog had come back at around midnight, and Henry had tentatively woken up Alex and Pez to help deal with it. Amy had been, obviously, not happy, and took her coat back from Pez, who then went back to his room and presumably cried himself to sleep. Henry and Alex had lingered in the hallway, now in their pajamas and mostly sober, and had smiled at each other. 

"Well, I guess Trench Coat Pez is no longer with us," Henry had offered.

Alex gave him that lopsided grin and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, I'm gonna miss him." 

"He was fun. A real treat."

"Yeah..." Henry cleared his throat. "Well, um. Goodnight, Alex."

"Night Henry."

Henry turned towards his door. But before he could make another move, and as if it were happening in slow motion, Alex was pulling him back by his elbow, and then they were kissing. And oh, it was the most wonderful kiss Henry had ever experienced. Alex was warm against him, and his hands were clutching Henry's waist like a lifeline. After a moment of brief panic, Henry had relaxed into it, finding Alex's dark curls and tangling his fingers in them. When he finally pulled away for air, Alex pressed their foreheads together, and whispered

"I meant something like that."


End file.
